Angels Too Tied To The Ground
by The Crooked Beat
Summary: The death of a senator's son leads an investigator with her own agenda on a chase after the "real killer". But in an investigation based on inconclusive information, who is really the victim and who is the criminal?


Full Description: The death of an influential senator's son leads an investigator with her own agenda on a chase after a possible murderer. It is at the deceased boy's residence that she meets a rag tag group of social misfits, including a hyperactive psycho, a delinquent, an obese food lover, a musician, a withdrawn artist and many more. Admist this investigation is a relationship between two suspects as they journey through their lives in search of a place to which they can escape their nightmarish reality. However, in an a manhunt with circumstantial details, is it possible to discern who is the victim and who is the criminal?

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**_Disclaimer_: The idea for this story stemmed from watching the Wim Wenders film The Million Dollar Hotel. The only thing that really resembled the film will be this opening chapter, I have tried to keep this fic as original as I could, complete with a plot twist that even I am proud of coming up with. Additionally, I do not own any rights to any of the songs mentioned, named, etc. in this fic.**

**With that o**

**ut of the way, I present you with my first (uploaded) fic. Hope you'll enjoy and please leave plenty of reviews.**

**Also, rating may change depending on how colorful I decide to get with language and detail.**

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Angels Too Tied To The Ground

The First Time

_I have a lover_

_A lover like no other_

_She got soul, soul, soul, sweet soul_

_And she teach me how to sing_

Despite the bluish glow overtaking the city as night faded away to day, it wouldn't be until several hours more would the city wake up.

_Shows me colors when there's none to see_

_Gives me hope when I can't believe_

_But for the first time_

_I feel love_

Dawn's creep dimmed the lights of the street lamps and signs, turning them off, leaving the surrounding buildings to be bathed the darker glow of natural light. 81 Upping Street, better known locally as the Wawanakwa Hotel, turned off its marquee style sign roof sign, an action that went unnoticed by its sleeping inhabitants. However, as the lights went off, the sound of rushing feet manically climbing up the cavernous stairwells to the backdrop of a radio could have been heard, should someone have been awake. But no one was. And the heavy, feminine breathing of whomever it was on their way up the stairs went completely unnoticed.

_I have a brother_

_When I'm a brother in need_

_I spend my whole time running_

_He spends his running after me_

Stories above the running feet, the door to the roof opened up and out stepped a young man.

_When I feel myself going down_

_I just call and he comes around_

_But for the first time_

_I feel love_

He walked across the rooftop, his shoes making an occasion scuff sound as they grinded on the sandpaper-like surface of the hotel's rooftop, relishing the simplicity of the steel framework of the marquee sign and the clutter of junk surrounding him. He walked over to the end of the roof, purposefully clutching the handrail.

_My father is a rich man_

_He wears a rich man's cloak_

_Gave me the keys to his kingdom coming_

_Gave me a cup of gold_

He looked out over the suburban landscape towards the nearby cityscape longingly, knowing that he would never walk amidst the concrete jungle in awe ever again.

_He said I have many mansions_

_And there's many rooms to see_

_But I left by the back door_

He took a deep breath and turned around.

_And I threw away the key_

And he took off running.

_And I threw away the key_

A smile crept onto his face.

_Yeah, I threw away the key_

There was a happiness he suddenly felt, as realization dawned on him about all the things he could have had, and would have had, had he not thrown them away in favor of what he really wanted. What he really needed.

_Yeah, I threw away the key_

He looked to his right, his smile widening and he waved. He waved to to his audience, an audience that had come to incidentally pay witness to his leap-of-faith. He mouthed the words 'It's going to be okay', taking quick appreciation for this gesture as it may have been the last time he would ever speak. He continued to wave up until the last seconds before he ran out of roof-top.

_For the first time_

_But for the first time_

_But for the first time_

And he took his leap of faith, watching as the ground rose up to greet him in a shockingly fast pace. Yet the fear and regret he may have felt within those few seconds of rooftop; all had been wiped clean...

_I feel love_

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_**The First Time**_**, by U2. Originally released on their **_**Zooropa**_** album in 1993**

**To reiterate the above A/N, please leave plenty of reviews- praise and constructive criticism are welcome, but flames keep to yourself.**


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